


we're not the only ones

by Lise



Series: Remember This Cold [58]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky & Clint don't get along very well, Friendship, Gen, M/M, POV Sam Wilson, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Teambuilding, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, alternate POV, in which Sam Wilson finds himself in charge of a bunch of human disasters, playing with some new and exciting character dynamics, teambuilding through stress and upset, this is Remember This Cold verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 10:38:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10488984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: Steve and Loki are gone, Bucky's looking for a cliff to jump off, and Wanda's scared she's going to lose her family all over again.Apparently this means Sam's in charge.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written anything from Sam's POV before, but suddenly I started writing this and then I was 4000 words in and having the time of my life. So hopefully that's a good sign, as opposed to a sign that I'm just generally losing control of myself. 
> 
> I wanted to explore some of what was going on Earthside while Steve and Loki were, uh, busy during [the water is getting colder](archiveofourown.org/works/10439427), and Sam's POV seemed like a good place to do that from. 
> 
> Many thanks to [my delightful beta](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), and I hope you all enjoy.

“Sam. _Sam._ Wake up.” 

Sam jerked awake groggily to see Bucky looming over him. He tried not to groan. “I’m not going for another early morning run. Just because super soldiers don’t need sleep like us _normal_ people-” He realized, belatedly, that Bucky was so tense he was almost vibrating, and there was a wild look in his eyes. 

“Steve and Loki are gone,” he said. 

_That_ woke him up the rest of the way. 

Sam jerked up. “What the hell do you mean, gone?” 

“I mean _gone._ ” Bucky’s voice was almost a snarl. “I mean I went to their rooms and _no one is there_ and there’s a whole lot of blood.” 

Sam rolled out of bed, reaching for his shirt and tugging it on. “How old?” He asked. 

“Dry,” Bucky said flatly. “So it’s been at least a few hours.”

“Who knows?”

“No one but you.” Sam gave him a sharp look, and Bucky met it, his eyes hard and half feral. “No alarm went off. What does that say to you?” 

_Inside job._ But that didn’t seem right. He couldn’t believe T’Challa would turn on them, and he’d never let invaders into his sanctuary. And-

“This is Steve and Loki we’re talking about,” he said. “They’re hardly helpless-”

“Taken by surprise? With enough men?” Bucky’s jaw clenched. “I need to get to a plane.” 

“To do what?” Sam said, though he had a feeling what the answer was before Bucky said it. 

“Hunt down Ross, beat their location out of him, and then kill him,” he said. Sam would’ve felt better if there was proper fury in Bucky’s voice.

“That’s a terrible idea and you know it,” he said. “I want to see the room. And then we’re going to tell the others. Maybe Wanda can...do something.” Bucky looked like he was going to burst out of his skin. 

“It was him,” Bucky snarled, and now he was angry. “You know it was him. How long do you think we have before Steve’s court-martialed for treason and Loki gets pumped full of potassium chloride?”

 _Not long._ Sam’s brain ruthlessly did the math. Ross wouldn’t waste time. Wouldn’t want to risk another escape. “And if you charge in half-cocked?” He said, anger leaking into his own voice. “The second you touch Ross both of them are as good as dead. And if this isn’t him-”

“Who else would it be?” 

“It’s not like we’re exactly short on enemies!” Sam squeezed his eyes closed for a second. “I don’t think T’Challa would go back on his word, and not just anyone can sneak into Wakanda.” He started for the door. 

“Could Stark?” Bucky asked. Sam’s step hitched a little. 

“He wouldn’t,” Sam said. “Maybe if it was just Loki. But he wouldn’t go that far with Steve.” 

“Maybe not intentionally.” 

Sam didn’t answer that. He opened the door and strode down the hallway as fast as he could short of running. If this was an inside job...could anyone pull that off without T’Challa knowing? He wasn’t omniscient, but…

If someone had betrayed them, why stop at Steve and Loki? Why not go after the rest of them? 

Maybe they couldn’t get in a big enough force. Ross wouldn’t just kill them outright. Would he? Or would he do it and just claim _national security_ afterwards, or never admit anything at all?

Bucky had already broken through the door and Sam stepped inside. He could see blood soaked into the carpet through the open bedroom door. He didn’t like the size of that stain, like someone had near bled out. One of the attackers? Had to be. No point in dragging a dead body out-

Unless your dead body was a super soldier whose blood might hold the key to a serum no one had been able to replicate. Unless your dead body was a near immortal magic alien. Sam’s stomach clenched. 

“Someone died here,” Bucky said. “There’s blood on the walls inside, too. But they cleaned up, leaving. Didn’t want to leave any clues to their identity.” 

Sam’s blood got colder. The US government wouldn’t want evidence of any kind of unauthorized operation on Wakandan soil. _Anyone could want to hide who they were. Stop pursuit._

“I’m going to kill him,” Bucky said, flat and factual. 

“You dive in there and you’re going to get yourself killed,” Sam said, staring at the stain on the carpet. 

“I don’t care.” 

“Steve would,” Sam said flatly. “And I’m not going to believe he’s dead until I see a body. I don’t want to explain to Loki that I let you get yourself killed, either. He’d probably drag you back from the dead to kill you again himself.” He turned back to Bucky. “We do this smart, or I _will_ get Wanda to lock you in a closet.”

Bucky’s jaw worked and for a half second Sam though he was either going to hit him or just make a run for it, but then he jerked his head in a nod. “Fine,” he said tightly. “ _Fine._ We’ll do this your way.”

That’d be better news if Sam had any idea what _his way_ was. 

* * *

“So,” Sam said, trying to ignore Bucky pacing like a tiger behind him, “Steve and Loki are gone. Taken by someone. Any ideas?”

Silence. There were tight lines of worry around Wanda’s eyes, Pietro’s arm snug around her shoulders and glowering at nothing in particular. Clint’s leg was bouncing restlessly and Scott was looking at the floor. T’Challa, Sam had been informed by a very imposing woman, was busy.

“Yeah, well, let me know when he’s _un_ busy,” Sam had said, and left before she could decide that was ruder than she was going to tolerate. 

“Do you think it’s Ross?” Clint asked, finally. “Seems to me like there’d be more bullet holes involved, if it was him.” 

“If not Ross then who,” Bucky snapped, barely pausing in his pacing. “If someone has an idea of an alternative, now’s a good time to speak up, but I’m not sure we shouldn’t just shake Ross and see what falls out anyway.”

“Aliens,” Clint said, simply, and when they looked at him, shrugged. “I’m serious. We know they’re out there. We know a lot of them want Loki’s head on a stick, and they might consider an Earth hero a great bonus. That’d explain how they got in.” 

Wanda swayed forward. “I didn’t sense anything,” she said. “Any magic, or…”

“Would you, if you didn’t recognize the type?” Clint asked, his voice going gentler. Pietro scowled at _Sam,_ of all things. 

“Aliens,” Bucky said flatly, staring at Clint. “If you think that’s what happened what do you suggest we _do_ about it?” 

Clint’s expression flickered. “Do _you_ have a portal lying around somewhere, Barnes? I don’t know. You going to kill me over that?”

“Can someone-” Sam grimaced. “Can someone get in touch with Jane Foster? Anyone know how to reach her?” 

Scott blinked a little. “Jane Foster?” 

“Thor’s girlfriend and internationally renowned astrophysicist,” Clint said. “Her specialty is - well, the relevant one is that she knows a lot about the Bifrost. Asgard’s interdimensional travel machine.” To Sam, he said, “are you sure that’s a good idea? We try to reach her and we’re not only risking revealing _our_ location, but quite possibly screwing her over for getting involved with fugitives.”

“What if it isn’t us who gets in touch with her?” Scott said. They all turned to look at him, and Scott looked uncomfortable. “I mean, it’s just an idea. But she’s a scientist, we’re in a country known for its crazy advanced science...what if King T’Challa talked to a university and had them invite her to teach, give her a grant, whatever.”

“That’s actually...a good idea,” Sam said.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Scott said. Pietro coughed, and Scott scowled at him. Sam looked at Bucky, who didn’t look mollified. 

“That still means waiting,” he said. “How long will all that take? And if you’re wrong, and this is something closer to home?” 

“We’ll follow that lead, too,” Sam said, trying to sound calmer than he felt. 

“By the time we find them they’ll probably already have freed themselves,” Clint said. Sam suspected it was mostly for Wanda’s benefit, though, considering the unhappy way he looked at Sam as he said it. 

_And what if they haven’t?_ It said. _Thoughts on what we do then?_

* * *

“I was told you were looking for me?” 

Sam looked up from where he was staring at his computer with no idea what he was looking for. “Yeah,” he said. “Have you heard the news?” 

T’Challa blinked once. Just once. The man was maddeningly unflappable, at least on the surface. “About Steve and Loki? I have.” 

“What’re you planning on doing about it?” 

“I assumed that was what you wanted to talk to me about,” T’Challa said. 

Sam stared at him for a long moment. “Is there any chance this was an inside job?” He asked bluntly. “That someone here sold them out?” 

“No,” T’Challa said at once. Sam narrowed his eyes. 

“You sound awfully sure about that.” 

There was a flicker of annoyance. “I wouldn’t place anyone here that I didn’t trust completely. I’m not a fool, Mr. Wilson. Nor careless. Besides, I already looked into that possibility. I’m certain.”

“Right, fine,” Sam said. “How quickly could you hire an astrophysicist?” 

“Jane Foster?” Sam managed not to look surprised, though apparently something showed because T’Challa half smiled. “I _have_ met Thor. He seems quite proud of her. I can see the process begun today, but if you don’t want to attract notice it should wait at least a week.” 

Sam shook his head. “We don’t have that kind of time.” 

“Then provided she accepts - and I think I can convince the university to make a persuasive offer, all things considered - I imagine I can have her flown here in a couple of days.”

That’d have to be good enough. “What about here on Earth?” He asked. “Do you have any contacts stateside who could, uh...investigate the possibility that this is governmental?” 

“You mean if I have spies?” T’Challa asked dryly. Sam refused to look embarrassed. “That’s a rather sensitive question.” 

“I’m a fugitive from the U.S. government,” Sam said, equally dryly. “I’m not going to tell.” 

T’Challa looked at him for another long moment, then nodded. “I may have some resources I can draw on.”

“Okay,” Sam said, more to himself than anything. “Thanks,” he added, and meant it. “For helping.” 

“Frankly, I take it as a not insubstantial insult that someone managed to break in and snatch two of my guests from under my nose.” Sam squinted at T’Challa, who gave him a faint, wry smile. “Steve is a friend, Mr. Wilson. And while I cannot call Loki as much, I do have respect for him.” He paused. “And you? What are you planning to do?”

“Mostly try to keep Bucky ‘human disaster’ Barnes from jumping off the deep end,” Sam muttered, though based on the twitch of T’Challa’s eyebrows it wasn’t quiet enough. He sighed. “I don’t know. I’m feeling pretty useless, to be honest, so if you have any ideas…”

“Your current task sounds like one that will keep you quite busy,” T’Challa said.

Sam ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he said. “Probably.”

* * *

To say that tensions were running high was an understatement. Tensions were running in the stratosphere. The only one who seemed to be managing to keep his head down was Scott. And T’Challa, who was still infuriatingly unflappable. 

Though Sam did catch him with his eyebrows furrowed and frowning once or twice, so maybe he was only like that around _him._ Sam wasn’t quite sure whether that was flattering or irritating. 

Three days out with no word, Sam found Clint and Bucky nose to nose and yelling at each other.

“You need to back the _fuck_ off, Barnes,” Clint was snarling. “We all know you’re _stressed_ but there is no goddamn reason to go off on anyone else-”

“Clint,” Wanda said, looking upset. “It’s fine, I’m not upset-”

“Hear that?” Bucky snapped. “She doesn’t need you _white-knighting_ her, and I did not _go off_ -”

Clint took a step toward Bucky, looking up at him with a twitch in his jaw. “Sounded like it to me.” 

“Would both of you just,” Wanda said, but she sounded shaken and unhappy and no one was listening. Sam stepped forward. 

“Hey!” he said, raising his voice a notch. 

“Step off, Barton,” Bucky said, his voice flattening ominously. “You’re too close.” 

“And you need to cool off,” Clint said. “Take a breath. Take a _nap_ and _calm down._ ”

“Just because you’re fine ditching your family doesn’t mean the rest of us can be quite as blasé.” Clint jerked like he was going to punch Bucky and Sam raised his voice to a shout. 

“ _Hey!_ ” 

Finally, all three of them looked at him. Wanda’s eyes were shiny and a little red-rimmed. Neither Clint nor Bucky looked the slightest bit abashed. “What the hell is going on here,” Sam snapped. “The last thing we need right now is to be at each others’ throats. Again!”

Clint gestured furiously in Bucky’s direction. “ _Super-sniper_ here is trying to pick a fight because he can’t deal with a problem he can’t kill his way out of.” 

“At least I can do _something,_ ” Bucky said. “While you stand back safe and fiddle with your toy arrows-”

“Shut _up,_ ” Sam growled. “ _Both_ of you!” He looked at Wanda, who was biting her lip. “Wanda…”

“It’s fine,” she said, which it clearly wasn’t. “I was just...I think I surprised Bucky.”

“He tried to use Hydra against her,” Clint said, clearly still incensed. “Lot of nerve _that_ takes.”

“I said _shut up,_ ” Sam said. “I’m going to send you to your goddamn _rooms._ Not you, Wanda,” he added, when she flinched. This whole disaster had really thrown her for a loop. Poor kid. He’d have to talk with her later.

He was surprised Pietro hadn’t turned up yet. 

Bucky’s jaw shifted, but he didn’t look at Sam. Clint glowered past his shoulder. Sam rubbed his eyes. 

“Everyone’s stressed,” he said. “I get it. But it doesn’t help _anyone_ if we all go to pieces. Do I need to make the two of you apologize or can you manage that on your own?” 

“Sorry,” Clint said after a moment. He didn’t sound terribly sincere. 

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “Same. I guess.” 

That was probably about as good as he was going to get. “All right,” Sam said. “Now...do whatever you need to do to walk it off. Shoot something. Take a nap. Whatever.” They both directed the same sullen glare in his direction. Sam glared back. 

Bucky turned and stalked away first. Clint’s glare faded a little. 

“Not a bad Steve imitation,” he said.

“I don’t need to imitate anyone,” Sam said. “Had plenty of practice dealing with idiots all on my own.” 

He waited until Clint was gone to turn to Wanda. “You okay?” 

Her lips twisted a little. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” Sam said. “Not what I asked.”

Wanda sighed, looking down. “I’m fine. Just...just worried.”

“I know that feeling.” He kept telling himself that no news was good news, at least as far as Ross was concerned. Probably. Unless he figured he’d avoid bad publicity by just not saying anything and having Steve and Loki shipped to some black box site somewhere. And if it _wasn’t_ Ross...it was a big galaxy. 

“You...this is my family. Our family, even if Pietro won’t admit it.” Wanda chewed on her lip. “What if they’re…”

“Don’t assume that until we know it,” Sam interrupted. “Steve and Loki are both survivors, and they’ve got each other.” Unless they’d been separated. _Stop that._ “Nobody’s giving up.” 

Wanda nodded, slowly. “When is Dr. Foster getting here?” She asked. “I think I’d like to talk to her, if I can.” 

“Tomorrow,” Sam said. “I’m going to go meet her at the university with T’Challa and explain the situation. I’ll see if I can’t get you in a room together soon.”

“Thank you, Sam,” Wanda said, with a small smile. She paused. “Clint’s right, you know.” 

Sam raised his eyebrows. “About my Steve imitation?”

Wanda shook her head. “Not the imitation. What he meant. You’re a good leader.”

She slipped out. Wanda moved almost silently, when she wanted to. 

* * *

Jane Foster blinked once when she exited customs to find the King of Wakanda waiting for her. “Uh - hello,” she said. “Your Majesty?” She looked a little suspicious, suddenly, and glanced around. “I’m guessing you don’t greet every prospective grantee personally.”

“Indeed I do not,” T’Challa said. He held out a hand. “It’s good to meet you, Dr. Foster. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

Jane looked a touch self conscious. “Right,” she said. “Um...thank you. So is the special treatment because…”

“No,” T’Challa said. “Wakanda would be happy to host you anyway - Professor Adeyemi is particularly keen to talk with you. I think she may have some insights you will find interesting.” Jane’s face visibly brightened. “But I do have an ulterior motive as well.”

Sam straightened from where he’d been watching and walked over. “Dr. Foster,” he said politely, offering a hand. “Sam Wilson. I was hoping I could get your help with a little problem.” 

Jane’s eyes widened, but she took his hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “What kind of little problem?” 

“I’ll explain in the car,” Sam said, mindful of the crowded airport around them. Sunglasses and T’Challa’s assurances or no, he couldn’t exactly be comfortable. Jane glanced at T’Challa, still seeming a little overawed. Though that might not just have to do with the “King of Wakanda” thing. 

“I’m afraid I won’t be joining you, Dr. Foster,” T’Challa said, with a bit of a smile. “I expect I’ll see you again soon, however.” 

“Sure,” Jane said, then seemed to shake herself and said, “I’d be honored. Thank you so much for...inviting me.” 

“You are welcome,” T’Challa said, and turned to prowl away. Sam shook his head. 

“Come on,” Sam said. “Sorry to rush you, but...we’re on a bit of a timetable.” 

* * *

T’Challa might have taken off, but he’d left them with a nice town car to travel in. Sam sealed the barrier between them and the driver and turned to Jane.

“Is this about Thor?” She asked immediately, eyebrows furrowed. “I haven’t heard from him in a long time. I was starting to wonder if-”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. “I don’t know what’s going on with Thor. It’s actually about - Steve. And Loki.” 

Jane frowned. “What about them?”

Sam exhaled. “They’re gone,” he said simply. “Taken.”

Jane’s eyes got wider than they had looking at T’Challa. “ _What?_ ”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Vanished out of their room. We’re considering the possibility that it’s...someone on Earth, but there’s also the possibility, especially since Loki’s involved...it could be someone else.” 

Jane sat back. “Oh,” she said, a little faintly. “That’s…” She shook her head slowly. “What do you think _I_ can do? You know I haven’t - built a working bridge, or anything, right?” 

“Maybe you could, using Wakanda’s tech,” Sam said. “And even if you can’t - you know more about space than any of the rest of us. And probably more about aliens, too.” 

“Some,” Jane said slowly. “But not…” Her eyes turned forward. “Both of them?” 

Sam nodded. “Yeah. We don’t know if...Loki was the target, or Steve, or both.” 

“Okay,” Jane said, seemingly to herself. “Okay. That’s…” She grimaced. “I _wish_ I’d talked to Loki when I had the chance!” 

That, Sam hadn’t expected. “Pardon?” 

“Oh, just - Thor’s great, but talking to him about what Asgard knows about science is a little like...talking about computers to someone who uses them for email and the internet. He _knows_ things but he can’t really explain them. And he kept telling me - or, well, not telling me - that Loki would explain better, but I didn’t ask because, well, _Loki,_ and now…” She ran her fingers through her hair, which considering it was in a ponytail just ended up making a bit of a mess of it. “I can try to see if there are any residual energy readings, maybe talk to this Professor Adeyemi that King T’Challa mentioned. I don’t know how much it’ll be, but - I’ll see what I can do.”

“That’s all I can ask.” Sam summoned a weak smile. “Jane...thanks.” 

“You’re welcome,” she said quietly, looking down at her lap. “If I can’t help Thor...the least I can do is help his friends.”

“Oh, yeah. When you come by, after you get settled at the university,” Sam said, “Wanda Maximoff wants to meet you.”

Jane’s eyes widened again. “Me? Why?” 

Sam shrugged. “She’s friendly and hasn’t met you before? And is probably tired of being the only woman around who isn’t one of the Dora Milaje.”

“The what?”

“T’Challa’s bodyguards,” Sam said. “You’ll meet them, they’re terrifying. But Wanda’s a sweetheart.”

“Oh,” Jane said. “Well. I’ll look forward to it, then.” 

She adjusted fast. Sam had to give her credit for that.

* * *

Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Getting on a week and there was a whole lot of _squat._

Wanda got paler and her face got tighter every time Sam saw her, which meant Pietro was even more ready to fight the world than usual. Clint had a constant look on his face like he was looking for something to shoot, and Bucky seemed to have transcended ‘stressed and anxious’ and was well on to ‘the verge of a mental breakdown.’ Jane looked more frazzled every time she reported that she couldn’t identify anything for sure.

 _Seven days isn’t that long,_ Sam told himself. 

God, they had to be okay. 

“Bucky,” Sam said. “Sit down. You’re making me tired.” 

“Then don’t watch,” Bucky snapped, and kept pacing. “You know as well as I do that every day that goes by, the chance that they’re not - that they’re _alive_ decreases. And whoever has them hasn’t asked for anything, hasn’t made any kind of statement. For all we know they’re already - already _dead._ ” He said the last word like he was forcing it out, which he probably was. 

“We don’t know that they are, either,” Sam said. “Loki’s managed not to die, what, five times now? And Steve’s had his share of missing his exit too.”

“Everyone runs out of chances,” Bucky said grimly.

“What do you want me to say?” Sam demanded, his calm cracking. “That you’re right? That there is a pretty good chance Steve and Loki are both dead somewhere and we might never know? It’s true. You _are_ right. You think it hasn’t occurred to me that they’ve both gotten one near miss too many and this time they’re not getting lucky? But I’m not giving up until I see the bodies and I’m damn well not letting you throw yourself off a cliff!”

Bucky stared at him and Sam stared back, breathing hard. “Maybe you’re forgetting,” Sam said flatly, “while you’ve been busy seeing if you could commandeer a plane behind my back - yeah, I heard about that - but they’re my friends too. I’m doing what I can to get them back and I could do _more_ if I didn’t have to worry about you scampering off to storm the Department of State all by your lonesome.” 

Silence. Sam took a deep breath and let it out. 

“I wouldn’t storm the State Department,” Bucky said. Sam gave him a look, and Bucky said, “I know where he lives. I’d go to his house.” 

“Jesus,” Sam said wearily. Bucky sat down, finally. 

“I know you’re doing what you can,” he said, and now he just sounded tired. “Doesn’t leave a whole lot for me to do.” 

“Break some punching bags,” Sam said. “That’s what Steve does.” 

“I’m more of a ‘knife fighting with Loki’ kind of guy,” Bucky said, pulling a face. Sam raised his eyebrows. 

“Y’all need better hobbies,” he said after a moment. Loki and Bucky knife fighting was a slightly terrifying mental image. 

“Probably,” Bucky said, with a very weak smile. “Sam...I promise I won’t jump off any cliffs until we find them.” 

“Cut off that last bit and we’ve got a deal,” Sam said. 

“Fine,” Bucky said after a brief pause. “No cliffs.” 

“Good,” Sam said. “Weight off my back. I’d cry, I would.” 

“Shut up,” Bucky said, and turned to go. Sam really hoped it was to break some punching bags and not to try knife fighting with T’Challa as an alternative. 

* * *

He found Wanda in the kitchen staring at a burnt piece of toast and crying. Pietro was hovering over her shoulder, for once looking more worried than pissed off. 

“Wanda,” he was saying. “It’s going to be all right.” 

“What if it isn’t?” She said. “You don’t know that, Pietro. Awful things happen.” She looked up, saw Sam, and quickly dashed a hand across her face. “Oh - I’m sorry.” 

“No need to apologize,” Sam said. “Don’t know what you’d be apologizing for.” 

“I know I haven’t been very helpful,” she said. Sam shook his head. 

“None of us have, really.” That was the problem with having a bunch of worried, superpowered people, Sam realized. They all thought they should be able to solve the problem somehow. “I know if there was something you could do, you’d do it.” 

He left Wanda to Pietro and went looking for T’Challa. “No news,” he said when Sam poked his head in. Sam walked in without asking and sat down.

“How long do we wait?” He asked. 

“For what?” 

“Before we start...trying to figure out next steps. I don’t know.” Sam grimaced. “I’m not saying _give up._ I don’t know.” 

T’Challa’s eyebrows rose. “Why are you asking me?” 

“Because you’re less of a mess than everyone else on my team?” Sam said. 

“Thank you.” That was extraordinarily dry. Sam wasn’t going to acknowledge it. “As you’ve said - I would not wager on Steve Rogers’ death until I see a body. I would put even less money on Loki’s. For now, it seems to me that there is not a great deal that changes, whatever you decide.”

“We need a leader,” Sam said wearily. “We’re not much of a team without one.”

T’Challa leaned back. “It seems to me you already have one.” 

“Shit,” Sam said after a moment. “This is _not_ what I signed up for.”

T’Challa’s lips twitched a little toward a smile.

* * *

Mid-morning on day fourteen. A text from Bucky: _silent alarm at steve &lokis on my way._ Sam jumped to his feet, not sure what he was expecting but already halfway down the hall, swearing at Bucky - what if whoever had taken Steve and Loki was back for more? What if-

He saw Loki first: standing, though he looked like he wished he wasn’t. A second later, Steve: sitting down, pale and washed out, his eyes barely staying open. But alive. Fucking _alive._

“Thank god,” he said, feeling his face stretch with a grin. “You have no idea how good it is to see you here.” Bucky was hovering like a mother hen. Sam couldn’t exactly blame him. 

Steve smiled weakly. “Probably about as good as it is to be here.” Loki’s eyes closed and he wobbled visibly. 

“Sit down,” Sam said. “You look like you’re going to keel over.”

Loki frowned at him, but he sat down, which said more than anything about how much of a mess he was. Loki could be on fire and he’d refuse a bucket of water if you told him to take it. 

And for some reason Sam _liked_ these idiots.

Steve was saying something about Asgard being attacked, explaining what had happened, but Sam was only half listening, assessing the way Steve was carefully not moving and Loki’s hand absently rubbing his chest. “I think this can wait,” he interrupted. “You need medical.”

Bucky volunteered him to go, and after one look at the hungry way he was staring at both of them he agreed. Steve looked like he was about to drop anyway. He stepped out, a huge weight fallen from his shoulders. 

How many times could those two escape certain death?

At least once more, apparently.

He set off to find the others. He might actually sleep well tonight.


End file.
